Prelude: Antithesis
by Svelte Rose
Summary: The war is over and the aftermath is much worse than they could have imagined. There are wounds can never be healed and there are those that can't be seen. Draco and Hermione. Written for the "Divine The Future" exchange.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**Antithesis

**Rating:** K 

**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling owns the characters, I own this particular storyline.

**Warning(s):** Annoying!Ron, Post-DH, EWE (Epilogue? What epilogue?), Lime

**Author/Artist Note(s): ** Arrrrgh. This was supposed to be only 10 pages. It stands at 37 right now. I wish there could've been more room for some Dramione development but I was running out of time. Perhaps this is but a prelude to something more, hmm? I hope you enjoy this nonetheless, Soundthrustereo! Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

Thank you Nicole, for being the best of betas when I kept sending you a longer and longer version of this!

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

…_**a rhetorical contrast of ideas by means of parallel arrangements of words, clauses or sentences.**_

At any one given time, a person only activated ten percent of their cerebral cortex. This was not to say that they used _only_ ten percent of their brain. In fact, it was the very opposite. Every sector of one's brain would be put to use sometime throughout one's life but only in fragments of ten percent each time. 

Hadn't the muggle biologist Darwin once said that nature did not only evolve their physical attributes to survive, but also had a hand in behavioral aspects as well? Then what about the muggle psychologist who came after him, the one who had disregarded Darwin's beliefs as narrow if not absolutely false? Instead of letting nature take its course, Lamark had theorized that individuals changed themselves over time; they were the ones who chose the characteristics to survive, not nature. While he was thought of as a joke among his non-magical contemporaries, Hermione always wondered: didn't his ideas have some bearing on the world also?

She closed her eyes as another painful twinge shot up her spine before her mind was riddled with images she knew she should not be seeing but _did_ see none the less. 

_Still recovering from her fight with Bellatrix and the various hexes she'd suffered during the final battle at Hogwarts, McGonagall coughed viciously into her hand, her thin frame shaking. As the head of the Order and also the Headmistress of Hogwarts, she had been burdened with various issues- the most important was the reconstruction of the Wizarding World in infrastructure and society. After the destruction of the Ministry, the only remaining figurehead in power with enough manpower to do something about it was the Order. They would only take control until the Ministry got back on its feet. At least until the Ministry got back on its feet. Percy was taking care of that at the current moment. Unfortunately, her health took a back seat to the needs of the greater good._

_Reconstruction was underway as survivors hurried to fix whatever damage had been done during Voldemort's short reign. Assignments were quickly dealt out but they were to the young. Even if they were an eager bunch, many were sent to handle a task one capable wizard and/or witch could have handled…_

_Hadn't most of them hadn't died during the war. Those who did survive were currently being treated for some of the worst injuries known; this war was not only ingenious in its various creative new curses but also very gruesome. The giants and werewolves had not held back. _

_The Ministry of Magic, Hogsmeade, even Diagon Alley...all those areas suffered vast amounts of damage. Although none was worse off than Hogwarts. If the castle wasn't so magically inclined to survive, it probably would've collapsed with the amount of magical energy that was flying through the air when the major battle took place only a few weeks ago._

_One by one, the helpers shuffled off to Apparate to their assigned stations. She knew most had dove into their tasks because they were trying to keep their minds off the loved ones they'd lost to the war. It was only by miracle it had been as short as it was. Otherwise, the war would've probably ended based on the fact that they wouldn't have had any more soldiers to fight it._

_Brown eyes flickered to the tired face of her most beloved professor as the witch pinched the bridge of her nose before struggling with what she knew to be the last station. Only she, Boot, Smith, Luna, and surprisingly a few Slytherins were left in the small office. _

_She would've gone with Ron and Harry to help out with the reconstruction on the damage the Burrow suffered but McGonagall had requested her aid with the more difficult projects. She supposed she should've taken it as a compliment but it did not serve to lessen her worry about how the Weasley family was faring with their losses._

_"Malfoy Manor?" The Transfigurations' professor- now Headmistress- said with a raspy voice. No doubt it was an effect of her age and the stress having been placed upon her shoulders so suddenly after the death of Dumbledore and then Snape._

_At this, there was a tense silence. It was thick, suffocating, and impermeable. The same brown eyes flew across the room as the remaining students looked away; suddenly shuffling their feet as though they could not get away soon enough. Even the remaining Slytherins kept their mouths shut and their eyes averted as the McGonagall looked towards them with small hope. _

_"Alright then, I'll inform the Malfoys of the decision then." The headmistress said quietly with a disappointed air. Even she could not fault them for their unwillingness to provide help. After all, it was known the Malfoys switched so suddenly to save their own hides; there was nothing noble in that discourse._

By sheer will alone, she forced the image to stop. Around her, various knick-knacks fell to the floor in a cacophony of noise. With another painful grimace, this time due to a oncoming migraine, she carelessly waved her hand as the various artifacts righted themselves in their proper places, shattered knick-knacks repairing with ease before flying back to their original settees.

She was getting better at controlling the images, thank Merlin.

She rubbed her forehead gingerly as the pain slowly subsided. 

_It was ridiculous._

At least, that's what she had thought when she first started being plagued by these images. It was_ ridiculous _so it certainly didn't require her to put much thought into it. There were many more important things to think about. Even if they had just exterminated the bane of their existence, it did not mean it was the last of their battles. The damage done to the Wizarding Community during his rule, even if it was only less than a year, would require years to bring it back the order that had prevailed during the less tumultuous times. Much of his policies needed to be rescinded and those that had been affected needed so much more than healing. There would be much to fix before anybody would ever experience a semblance of normalcy. 

Besides, there were others who suffered far more than she did with her hallucinations. The Weasleys were a sure testament of that. 

When she received her first image just a few days after the day Harry extinguished Voldemort, she had passed it off as a silly dream. Then, when her real life played out the exact same scene just a few hours later, she passed it off as simple déjà vu. That sort of stuff happened _all_ the time. 

Then there was the second time, the third time...when she had finally lost count, even her logic deemed she could no longer pass these incidents as mere coincidences. However, her mule-like approach to regarding certain facts she _did not _want to regard, refused to let go of the idea that they were only coincidences. There had to be something more.

It wasn't until she pushed Ron out of way from being crushed by a falling mortar during a partial renovation, that she finally believed that there just might be the slight possibility that...

_Wide, frightened, bright-blue eyes stared at her with a mix of astonishment, appreciation and…that look in his eyes…_

_No._ She shook her head vigorously. _Stop it, Hermione!_ She scolded herself. She had to remember that she had been the one to walk out of Trelawney's class during her third year, that she had scoffed at Lavendar and Parvati for taking the class so seriously, that anything remotely 'divination'-like had received her equal, venomous scorn, that bloody hell- she could not possibly be having flashes of the future. Just because she suffered two hours under Bellatrix's wand did not mean her brain rewired itself in such a severe way that opened up chambers in her mind that had never been accessible before.

_Instead of letting nature take its course, Lamark had theorized that individuals changed themselves over time; they were the ones who chose the characteristics to survive, not nature._

Why hadn't she gone crazy like Neville's parents had? Lord knows she had been on the verge of breaking every minute she suffered under the Cruciatus Curse but her mantra was much stronger than that: _stay alive, keep Harry alive, and keep the Wizarding World alive._ Had her brain rewired itself so that she could handle the feeling of her organs liquefying, her bones breaking, her skin burning as though flames licked viciously at it, without going mental? So that she could survive not as a vegetable but as a viable being in this shattered worked?

She rubbed the bridge of her forehead again. Despite all her misgivings and certainty that logic would prevail in the end, it still didn't explain the exponential rate at which her powers grew. 

_A semblance of normalcy._ That was the only reason she still carried her wand even though there was no use for it anymore. 

She had searched for answers in every book she laid her hands on. Never did she come so close to any solution for her problem until she read about basic twenty-first century psychology. It was then that she had some idea of what had happened to her. 

Funny how a _Muggle_ science seemed to explain her _magical_ malady more so than anything the Wizarding World could offer. 

_Darwin and Lamark...did they realize how well their opposing arguments worked in conjunction with one another?_

Before all of the strange prophetic images and the frightening new abilities, Hermione knew she should've been slightly suspicious of the fact that she'd recovered so quickly from Bellatrix's torture session. The woman only came in second after Voldemort in the mastery of that specific Unforgivable, she who had been the reason the Neville's parents had made St. Mungo's their permanent residence, she who was his second-in-command and had it not been for Molly, would have probably kept the war raging- how had she, Hermione Granger, survived a two-hour Cruciatus session with her?

At the time, she had been all too grateful that they were even able to get away from the Malfoy Manor; much less worry about whatever permanent damages the Cruciatus may have left her with. During it though, it felt like her very soul was being ripped from her body. Every cell in her body screamed for relief but obviously, none was forthcoming. The fact that she was even able to lie for Harry _during it_ was a great feat in it of itself. 

Not to mention she had touched the basilisk fang with her bare hands just so that they could destroy the Hufflepuff cup. Ron had insisted she do it and while she did not question him at the time, she now understood his unwillingness to do it himself had something to do with the fact that he had barely been able to destroy the necklace. 

Even if annoyed, she didn't care. She wanted to get rid of the Dark Lord as much as he and Harry did, but unlike Ron, would not hesitate to act her part and then some. It was not a criticism but a mere observation she had come to terms with. In any case, for the tooth to be stewing in its own poison for so long, she knew it wouldn't be safe to handle unless they used magically reinforced gloves with super-long tongs and a protective barrier of some sort. Dramatic, yes, but careful she was.

However, war generally left its soldiers no time to worry about small, seemingly inane technicalities. Once inside that chamber, she'd taken one good look at the rotting snake before yanking out a fang and stabbing it right into the cup. There was a slight tingle in her palms and she had been sure it was the poison seeping into her skin...

_But nothing_. So she passed it off as simply being ridiculously lucky. 

Now she knew it to be_genuinely impossible_. Nobody, not even someone who was made of_Felix Felicis_ potion themselves, could have had the luck she did. But these thoughts – _rational thoughts_ – were not something she allowed herself to be plagued with. In those times, it was just too time-consuming to overanalyze every little bit of their situation and time was something they did not have. She would _have_ time to do so _later_ and if later _never came_...well, what was the point of worrying in general?

So of course, when her body didn't feel any different except for the occasional soreness, she had attributed it to her body's strong will to survive the war.

She needed to survive. For Harry. For Ron. For her parents. For the DA. Everyone. As long as she made sure Voldemort was dead, she, herself, could die knowing all would also be well even if it would be long in coming.

_Only ten percent of one's brain at a time. Such a waste._

Hermione was not a wasteful girl by far.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Antithesis

**Title: **Antithesis

**Rating:** K 

**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling owns the characters, I own this particular storyline.

**Warning(s):** Annoying!Ron, Post-DH, EWE (Epilogue? What epilogue?), Lime

**Author/Artist Note(s): ** Arrrrgh. This was supposed to be only 10 pages. It stands at 37 right now. I wish there could've been more room for some Dramione development but I was running out of time. Perhaps this is but a prelude to something more, hmm? I hope you enjoy this nonetheless, Soundthrustereo! Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

Thank you Nicole, for being the best of betas when I kept sending you a longer and longer version of this!

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

"_**What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from."**_ _ (T.S. Elliot)_

McGonagall's eyes watched the small group before her with a tired resignation. While many appreciated Narcissa's act in saving Harry during the war, none congratulated them for it. Appreciation came because they needed the Boy-Who-Lived to kill the Darkest Lord that ever lived, but respect was a different matter altogether. Despite their vast amounts of wealth and endless networking, the Malfoy name was not what it was before the war and would never be for some time. 

_Time was the only solution._

She supposed it shouldn't have been a surprise that it came to this. By now, she had waited a few minutes for volunteers to come forth and none was obliging- _none would be_. 

"Alright then, I'll inform the Malfoys of the decision." The headmistress said quietly with a disappointed air as her eyes flickered to the pained expression on the face of the curly-haired witch. Even if fanciful, she had hoped her best student would look beyond the transgressions of the Malfoys and volunteer to help with rebuilding their ancestral home. She had always done so before. 

To Hermione's credit, Minerva did not fault her for her resistance. After all, the girl had suffered enormously beginning when she entered the Wizarding World starting at Hogwarts until the final days of the war. First because of the incessant taunts she had to deal with as a Muggle-born witch from the young Malfoy and then Crucio'd by the manic Bellatrix. 

At first, Minerva had been worried immensely as many victims of the Crucio curse never truly recovered mentally. Like the other Unforgivables, it was meant to have a lasting impression. Even Neville who had his taste of the curse suffered muscle spasms from time to time. But after observing the curly-haired witch for a quite some while and finding nothing at fault (at least to the naked eye); it was never brought up again. Examinations executed by the most skilled Medi-witches at St. Mungo's had been cursory for all post-war survivors. Hermione's results had been more than perfect…a little too _perfect_. 

Unlike her classmates, the worse she came out with were a few scratches. Minerva was never one to question their good luck and thus she simply thanked _Merlin_ under her breath for their supreme luck.

When that thin slender hand slowly lifted into the air, McGonagall immediately looked up from having just crossed the Malfoys' name from her list. Surprise was in her eyes and only widened even more when Luna's hand rose to join, then the rest of the Ravenclaws, and finally the abashed remaining Slytherins.

With a small smile and a nod, she dug around the drawer for the special Portkey that would take their group to the heavily guarded Malfoy Manor and handed it to the Ravenclaw girl.

"Good luck to the lot of you. If you find the task far more _daunting-_" she hesitated slightly but continued on, "—than you can handle, you are more than welcome to come back at any time and I shall assign you another task." 

They nodded their quiet acquiesce as they placed their hands slowly on the feather before the Portkey pulled them away to their destination.

**xxxxx**

Having spent a year on the run with Harry by means of Portkey, she was used to the spinning and the occasional nausea that accompanied it. As she landed on her own two feet while her classmates tumbled to the lush grass with muttered oaths and a few colorful expletives, she surveyed the vast land. 

The Malfoy Mansion was hard to miss with its lancet arches, each containing five glass panes, an equilateral doorway, and the gloomy gargoyles. If this didn't purvey a sense of foreboding to unwelcome visitors, then the fact that half of the west wing reduced to rubble certainly did. It added a bit more of that gothic feeling to the once grand mansion, now half-dilapidated. 

Luna hummed as she was the first to take a step forward. The Slytherins, whose two whose names escaped her at introductions in McGonagall's, had already partnered off amongst themselves. 

She waited as the last remaining Ravenclaws fought off their disorientation, following Luna at a slower pace. 

Sighing and rubbing her forehead with one hand and her wand in the other, she trudged forward, knowing that she didn't need a premonition to tell her that they were probably not welcomed.

**xxxxx**

Annoyed but not surprised at having been greeted by house elves, they were ushered into a small sitting room that was considerably warmer in appearance than the outer structure of the Malfoy Mansion.

She first poured tea in Luna's cup and then her own, picking it up and sipping gingerly while the Slytherins whispered among themselves and the Ravenclaws nibbled on biscuits. 

A sharp pain shot through her left eye and she very nearly dropped her tea cup; instead, it clattered against the saucer catching the attention of the wispy but observant Ravenclaw.

"Did you see something unpleasant?"

Hermione clenched her jaw and rubbed her throbbing temple before shaking her head slowly, "No…why would you ask that?"

Luna shrugged complacently, "You scrunched up your face in a way that showed you saw something unpleasant." She lifted the cup to her lips and blew on the steaming brew before taking a small sip.

Hermione did not answer. She had placed her teacup and saucer on the table before turning away and pretending to fiddle with her robe pockets. While her fingers mindlessly poked and pulled at her robes, she closed her eyes tightly and hoped the images would soon end.

"_I came as fast as I could. I can't believe McGonagall could have allowed it after all their family as done to us- to you!" Ron spoke stridently as he tracked floo powder all over the pristine cream carpet in her living room._

_Hermione frowned, having heard him in the next room, "What are you going on about?" She asked pulling back her hand from adjusting the candleholder on the dinner table set for two. "Who did what to me?"_

_Ron had a rather unpleasant trait of turning red and flailing his arms around whenever things didn't go his way. She had long ago realized that he probably didn't know that temper tantrums did not sit very well with her and nor would he stop doing so. Too bad, it really did make him look an awful lot like those puffer fishes she'd seen at the aquarium with her parents._

"_You know!" His voice was uncomfortably high now, "The Malfoys! Death-Eater-for-life, monsters that they are-,"_

"_Ronald." She clipped, setting the forks down and crossing her arms with a glare of her own. "You know if it weren't for them-,"_

"_Blah, blah, blah," He waved his hand carelessly. _

_Mouth pursed, eyes narrowed, and nostrils flaring, she started to tap her feet impatiently. _

_He threw his robe on the couch, floo dust rubbing off on the velveteen fabric before plopping down in her father's favorite recliner. Throwing his weight back, he sent a look of distaste towards her and rolled his eyes, "Everybody knows what they did."_

"_Then what-," _

_He interjected again, arms flailing as he threw himself forward, the chair creaking from the sudden exertion, "Because it's obvious they did it to save their own arses and not for anybody else! There's absolutely no honor in that. Why should we expend one of _our _people fixing their muddy dump when only half of it is missing versus mine where it was practically obliterated by his _people_!" He harrumphed and then threw himself back into the seat, "Besides, you're _my_ girlfriend." _

_All thoughts of a peaceful dinner having gone out the window, she pushed herself from the wall and stepped into the room with a warning look, "What's that supposed to mean?"_

_As was his nature, he seemed to not notice, "Well, you know, you should probably be with me and all that rot, seeing as how you are _my girlfriend_now. In any case…I'm hungry, is dinner ready yet?" _

_Had she been a more charitable person at that moment, she would have believed it was his way of trying to be sweet. However, she knew Ron and knew that he couldn't even tell that she was agitated much less care beyond that of his own basic needs. Stomping over to the chair and flinging the sooty robe at the surprised red-head, she shrieked, "Get out! I want you to get out right now, you sodding git!"_

"_Blimey!" He sputtered, "Are you barking mad!?"_

"_Yes," She seethed through her teeth, "For having any notion that we would even suit as a couple!" Yanking him off her father's chair and then practically throwing the befuddled young man at the fireplace, she hollered, "The Burrow!"_

"_You're mental! Absolutely mental!" He snapped back before roughly pulling on his robe and stepping into the fireplace._

_With a flash of green, he was gone from her living room. The only proof he ever stepped foot in his house was the floo powder that was tracked all over her living room. All of which she removed with a quick 'scourgify' before taking a few deep breaths._

"_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." She muttered quietly to herself as she solemnly made her way back to the dining room._

"Stupid? What's stupid?" Luna asked with a confused look on her face.

Hermione snapped back, eyes blinking wildly. Thankfully, a platinum blond head poked its head in the doorway and she was saved from having to answer her friend. 

"Right. You're all here then." 

_Funny_. Her lips quirked. She had remembered him being far more eloquent than that.

His grey-eyed gaze quickly took in each and every one of his previous classmates. When it finally rested on her, she couldn't help wanting to smile at the quick flash of surprise and annoyance in his otherwise stoic gaze. Tightening his lips, he tucked his hands into his finely tailored robes and bowed his head as though in forced agreement with the arrangement. 

She did not miss the look Luna threw her. It only worked to heighten her annoyance.

He cleared his throat first before opening his mouth to speak, "I will direct you to the West Wing as it is the area that seemed to have sustained the most damages. Luncheon will be served at midday. Should you be in need of any refreshments before then, just clap once for the elves."

She was met with his challenging gaze.

Lifting a hand from his pocket, he opened the door and motioned outward, "If you will?"

The students slowly filtered into the hallway. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott had been the only ones to acknowledge him by a short nod of their heads while the others were far more comfortable just walking past him without a second glance. 

She was happy to do the same as the others had done; just walk past him without acknowledging his presence except for keeping the door open. After all, this was the same boy that had tortured her for six years of her life, the seventh year being the one where his aunt executed her own method of torture. Just as she stepped past the doorway, a cold hand yanked her back into the room and she was met with a chilly glare.

It didn't matter that she was wearing several layers of clothing, his touch still burned, carving itself into her arm.

She jerked away.

"What the_ hell_ do you think you're doing here?"

"What the _hell _do you think I'm doing here?" She bit right back, mimicking his speech pattern. In retrospect, it was a fairly immature move on her part but call it vengeance for his manhandling of her arm.

"You'll not find any evidence against my father here, _Miss Granger_." He whispered in her ear, his breath sending an unpleasant chill down her back. "I'd advise you to just leave. The sooner you finish, the sooner we'll all find peace."

She had experienced far too much in this castle to be perturbed by a poorly veiled threat. "What, Miss Granger is it now?" She softly asked in a falsetto, sweet voice before yanking away from his grasp, "Is that manners I spy?" 

She had taken a few steps forward before turning around, her robes twirling around her ankles, "The war may be over but peace is hardly forthcoming, _Mr. Malfoy_. " With that, she tucked her hands into the sleeves of her robes and followed after a waiting Luna who had been the only one to observe the entire exchange.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Antithesis

**Title: **Antithesis

**Rating:** K+

**Disclaimer: ** JK Rowling owns the characters, I own this particular storyline.

**Warning(s): ** Annoying!Ron, Post-DH, EWE (Epilogue? What epilogue?), Lime

**Author/Artist Note(s): ** Arrrrgh. This was supposed to be only 10 pages. It stands at 37 right now. I wish there could've been more room for some Dramione development but I was running out of time. Perhaps this is but a prelude to something more, hmm? I hope you enjoy this nonetheless, Soundthrustereo! Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

Thank you Nicole, for being the best of betas when I kept sending you a longer and longer version of this!

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

Once at the wreckage, they she had immediately taken charge and begin divvying up the tasks. First, they needed to clear the debris in order to get any work done and since some of the younger years could not possibly that type of levitation work, the older ones had to concentrate on the larger pieces together. At first, Luna, Blaise and Theodore had helped with the removal but once there was space to work, they began using various charms and transfiguration spells to rebuild the foundation. Since the spellwork required was far more intricate than a simple levitation charm, the younger years soon had the burden of the grunt work.

Malfoy had left them alone some hours ago, checking back every so often on their progress. The large size of the ruins only gave a small idea as to how long the project would take. The fact that they had not even finished rebuilding the walls to a single room only accentuated that fact.

A pain shot through her stomach before a small growl sounded pitifully from her empty stomach. Instantly, she licked her lips, now dry and cracked from her day's exertions as she brushed the sweat and grime from her forehead. Walking over to a small, cleared area where a tiny stand stood holding glasses of lemon flavored water; she picked one up and drank greedily. She set down the empty glass and watched with a bit of surprise as it immediately filled right back up.

She was just about to reach for it again when the distinct 'pop' of someone Apparating nearby caused her to look up. She could hardly help the immediate feeling of distaste in her mouth when she set eyes upon Draco Malfoy and along with him, Narcissa Malfoy.

The woman surveyed the scene with an impassive eye much like her son had done much earlier in the drawing room. Then a sharp clap sounded from her hands and several elves appeared immediately after, steaming plates of food in their arms.

Though annoyed as she had never fully lost her convictions for S.P.E.W., she could hardly help her mouth from salivating at the thought of finally filling her stomach up with something other than air. The relieved sighs from behind her proved the others in agreement as they quickly shuffled forward to receive their meal.

"Lunch is served." Narcissa spoke in what Hermione could only describe as a thoroughly aristocratic voice.

The elves came forward and handed each of them a silver platter. Hermione took hers with gracious thanks before the elf that served her quickly hurried away to the next person. Looking around, she saw that Luna had roughly transfigured some debris and rubble into a small table with a chair. "Thank you." She said, mainly to Narcissa. The witch simply nodded in silent acquiescence.

Hermione waved her wand to another rock beside the Ravenclaw and took her seat once it finished transfiguring into a chair. Each girl lifted the lids from their food and then dug in happily.

In their fervor, they missed the pointed look Narcissa Malfoy sent to her son who had only clenched his jaw in response.

**xxxxx**

From a distance, grey eyes watched as the number of Hogwarts students working on the wall slowly dwindled until only Luna, Blaise, Theo and Hermione were left working on the grounds. Since they were all certified to apparate, the younger students had left with the Portkey. Even from a distance away, he could see the exhaustion that showed on their faces and the dust that coated their robes. Many simply forgot that while magic was convenient and useful, it still took quite a bit out of the witch and/or wizard in question with the amount of personal energy required. Those who lacked in skill usually made it up in stamina. The energy it took was dependent upon the difficulty of the spell.

The war had not eradicated all instances of racism from their world but it had removed any other boundaries, such as which House they came from. The four students of the three great Houses of Hogwarts founding parents soon moved to stand in a close group and once in a while, Blaise would point an arm at the rubble and after, the other three would nod in agreement.

His eyebrows rose in amazement; they were strategizing for the project. Well bloody hell, he didn't think they had it in them, especially Zabini and Granger. If there were ever a contest for the most stubborn and thickheaded of the Wizarding World, he wouldn't know which one to pick.

He rubbed his own wrist with a tired sigh. Not unlike them, he had also been at work the entire day, fixing the foundation that had been destroyed during the war. In their fervor of freeing Voldemort's prisoners of war, the Order had not only blasted the dungeons apart but much of the foundation that held the vast Malfoy Mansion from sinking into the earth. Unfortunately, with his parents busy preparing their case before the Wizengamot, he was the only one left with repairing the foundations. It had been, and still was, a slow and tedious job.

Focusing his attentions out the window once more, he noted with surprise that only one remained standing in the ruins. It can as no surprise to him that it was a bushy-head that was the one surveying their day's accomplishments before turning towards him and casting her gaze straight at him.

He quickly ducked behind the curtain and clenched his fist. Why his heart chose that moment to speed up its pace, he'd never know.

"I should have known." A deep voice spoke up from behind as the door clicked shut.

Draco turned around and flashed a brief smile at his father who was shaking off his outer robes. The tall man then moved to a small stand, reaching for the decanter of port and a crystal glass.

"What do you mean, Father?" He asked, feigning innocence.

Lucius Malfoy looked up from pouring himself a glass of port and arched an eyebrow delicately before motioning towards the window with one arm. "Honestly, Draco, I should hope you think I'm more aware of your life than grades and Quidditch."

Draco didn't even flinch. He simply watched his father take a slow sip before settling into the plush couch in front of the fireplace. It roared to life immediately. Then, three knocks sounded at the door.

"Come in." Lucius said with a flippant wave of his hand. The door swung open and a surprised Hermione Granger stood at the doorway.

The witch gave a slight nod of her head in greeting before quietly speaking, "I just wanted to inform you that we've finished for the day and will come back tomorrow morning after breakfast."

Draco had turned around at this point and became instantly interested of a few books strewn about randomly on the desk.

"Very well, we are much obliged." Lucius commented. He may have been taught the beliefs of his forefathers but at least he was also trained with the manners befitting an aristocrat.

"Also, I was wondering if we could request the layout of your house. I'm afraid we can't do much without them besides just building the outer wall." She had stepped into the room at this point and Draco could not help the hairs on the back of his neck from standing up.

Just as Lucius was about to answer, he jerked around on his heel and sneered, "What? So you can show the Weasel what a house is supposed to _really_ look like instead of that hovel he lives in?"

"Draco!" Lucius barked, setting his glass of port on the table none too gently.

Draco clenched his jaw and looked away.

"Alright then," Hermione went on without any indication of being ruffled by his comments, "We'll just build the outer walls then." She nodded and with a 'pop!' apparated away.

Draco slammed his fist on the desk before stalking from the room and slamming the door.

Lucius cast a wary glance at the dancing flames before picking up his glass and finishing off his drink.

**xxxxx**

Hermione ripped off her robes and stalked to the bathroom anger. After splashing some water, she deposited herself on the large bed and stared up into the ceiling, unblinkingly.

Suddenly, an all-too-familiar pain shot through her head and she squeezed her eyes shut, wincing in pain, "No." She managed to groan before hazy images began assaulting her mind relentlessly.

_His apparition point had been chosen well. Across the street from an ordinary three-story house and hidden behind a large tree, there was no one to distinguish the loud 'crack' that accompanied his appearance. Not that anybody living on this street would be able to tell what the noise was…_

…_But _she_ would._

_Quickly transforming his clothes into some semblance of 'normal' wear for this particular neighborhood, he then quickly made his way across the street, the lights casting an eerie glow upon his determined face._

_With a flick of his wand, he had unlocked the door and slowly stepped inside. Surprised that there seemed to be absolutely no magical wards up, he cast a suspicious glance around the hallway and only caught her robe lying haphazardly on a couch. Only the stairways were lit with a dim light from upstairs. With another flick of his wand, he slowly levitated himself up the stairs. Nothing moved but his wand arm and even then, one could barely hear the rustling of his clothing. It was so quiet, he could hear the slight buzz of his magic._

_Once he reached the top, he ended his spell and stepped onto the plush carpet. A firm grip kept on his wand, he pressed himself against the wall and edged towards the one room where there was still light. Then, casting a quick disillusionment charm about himself, he slowly peeked around the door frame. Laying on her side in bed, she trembled and upon closer inspection, he could see her lips turning white from the pressure._

_Concern immediately overtook his senses and no sooner had he taken one step did he find the pointed end of her wand poking rather painfully into his jugular._

"_What the hell are you doing in my house, Malfoy?" She all but snarled as her bloodshot eyes glared at him. _

_He glared right back at her, "I think you should know why the bloody hell I'm here."_

_She rolled her eyes and her hand relaxed. As soon as she had dropped her wand arm, he had shoved her roughly onto the bed, his own wand pointed between her eyes as he pushed her shoulder down with his other arm._

_She struggled for a bit before turning her head and was met with the squirming Dark Mark that marred his pale skin. A slight gasp escaped her mouth before she stopped moving and turned her face to meet his. There was no surprise in her eyes, just wariness as she regarded him with a strange look that made him very aware of the position of their bodies._

_A thick blanket of silence had engulfed them before he slowly bent down and pressed his lips gently to hers. "I…" Words could not have found a better time to escape him._

_She didn't respond. She just stood there and ironically enough, her passivity only impassioned him even more._

"_Deuce take it, why did you come?" He murmured against her still, but bruised lips. _

_Still no response._

_His lips left her lips, pressing soft kisses along her jaw line as his hands dropped from her shoulders to her elbows. His grip had loosened immensely but they still held her in a firm grasp. _

"_You must have known…of course you did know. You're a scheming, manipulating…"_

"_Draco." She finally spoke._

_His tongue found the pulsating spot on her neck. He didn't even hear her call his first name._

"_You were nearly tortured to death. You should've just…let it go."_

"_Oh god," She said spitefully and pushing him away. He gave no resistance. "We got captured because of our own stupid mistakes. It wasn't for you." The scorn in her voice could not be missed._

_He lifted his head and stared at her with eyes like chipped ice, "Then were _they_ worth it?"_

"_Yes. A million times over." She met his gaze with her own._


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Antithesis

**Title: **Antithesis

**Rating:** K+

**Disclaimer: ** JK Rowling owns the characters, I own this particular storyline.

**Warning(s): ** Annoying!Ron, Post-DH, EWE (Epilogue? What epilogue?), Lime

**Author/Artist Note(s): ** Arrrrgh. This was supposed to be only 10 pages. It stands at 37 right now. I wish there could've been more room for some Dramione development but I was running out of time. Perhaps this is but a prelude to something more, hmm? I hope you enjoy this nonetheless, Soundthrustereo! Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

Thank you Nicole, for being the best of betas when I kept sending you a longer and longer version of this!

**CHAPTER 4**

She was aware of him even before she opened her eyes. The wards in her house were silent for a reason as it tended to make the intruder drop their guard especially those who held the (dangerous) thought that muggle-born witches simply didn't know better.

Draco Malfoy had plenty of those kinds of thoughts to go around.

Brown eyes met grey and an eternity seemed to past before she rolled away from his stretched wand to the other side of the bed. She knew he already had her wand but since she didn't need it, it was a moot point.

He didn't know that, of course.

Just as she stood up, a hand reached out and yanked her none-too-gently back onto the bed. She fell directly underneath his towering figure. Infuriated, she tried sitting up but the stunning spell had hit her before she could even chance move a single finger.

_She just needed a few minutes to throw off the spell._

He sat down next to her head and in a gesture so gentle, he brushed an errant curl from her face.

"You're…different." The burning hand moved away from her face, leaving it tingling with awareness. "I can't put my finger on it but…you're different."

She struggled furtively against his bonds. Unfortunately, he was a skilled wizard in his own right and it was taking much longer than it usually would. However, his next words stopped her cold.

"I'm not sure why I'm here. We ended this more than a year ago and yet…"

"_Don't_." Came her reply in nothing louder than a raspy whisper.

He bent down and she shirked, pressing herself into the mattress and away from him. Turning her head away, her lips were drawn in a very severe frown, eyes glittering at some object or another across the room.

"I can't forget either." His lips brushed against the shell of her ear and she was hard pressed not to agree.

Unfortunately, admitting something like that had certain consequences and she was unable to stop the memories it triggered.

That was a hard year following Sirius' death, only to be exacerbated by the split between her and her two best friends. She wasn't even sure what the fight had been about, just that there was a fight and it wasn't the last of it.

Harry seemed content only when he was left alone with his brooding self, Ron who was forever obtuse sought refuge in Lavender when Hermione was too busy worrying about Harry to bother with him, and Ginny…well, for someone who stepped out of the shadows only recently, she insinuated herself within their threesome fairly quick. At first mention of the green-eyed savior, she was all fangs and claws with anyone that tried getting near him. Her animosity seemed to only multiply when it was Hermione.

Finding the entire ordeal obscenely ridiculous, Hermione did what she always did and hid in the library. She dove right into the thick of the books, abusing her Prefect pass to the Restricted Section in her search of something, a_nything_ that would help. Frequent fights with Harry, which also meant fights with Ginny and Ron, left her patience waning at a quick rate and her stress level skyrocketing.

High intensity frustration and stress usually resulted in the worst possible scenario. At least, in her case it did.

She had no idea how it happened as she could _hardly_ remembered _when_ it happened. All she remembered was her back pressed against the cold floor of the Prefect bathroom, his harsh gasps, and the pain that shot through her legs when he penetrated her. That had only been the _first_ time they were together.

A fine line between hate and lust. _Love didn't (doesn't) exist_.

Anything outside of their occasional rendezvous, she had absolutely no interest in what he was doing, nor did she care.

So when Harry first informed her of his suspicions about Draco and his frequent visits to the Room of Requirements, she had brushed it off as inconsequential. What _did _seem suspicious to her was the timely appearance of the potions book as previously owned by a 'Prince' and the immense knowledge of potions that no other book seemed to have. Ironically enough, it fell right into Harry's welcoming arms.

As was her luck (or lack thereof), that turned out to be the harmless thing while Draco's visits to the Room of Requirements resulted in a school-wide Death Eater raid.

What frightened her was that her defense of the blond-haired ferret was an act of self-preservation on her part. She was only concerned about her stint with their arch nemesis being discovered. More or less, once Harry mentioned he had been keeping a close eye on Draco's activities, she felt as though her heart dropped to the pits of hell. It was only by pure luck he did not notice her several trysts with the Slytherin.

The warning signs were glaring straight at her and she all but ignored them.

She_ never_ knew or tried to find out what he had been doing in there. She never saw him as a threat or anything he did as warrant for any concern. He was an outlet and nothing more, something to be used and discarded once she was finished. She had no fantasies that he felt any other way but the same.

When they finally found out what had been going on, Death Eaters were already swarming Hogwarts. In a matter of a few minutes, Snape was a traitor running away with Malfoy, Dumbledore was dead, and Hogwarts threatened to never open its doors for classes again.

To her credit, she surmised that even if she _did_ know, she probably could not have done a single thing. Dumbledore had actually planned his own execution.

"You shouldn't have volunteered to work at the mansion." There was no hesitation but she could tell the irritation slowly leaking into his voice.

"McGonagall asked for our help."

"So? There are a million other places that need reconstruction. _Why_ the mansion?"

"The other places already had people helping them out. Yours was the only one left on the list."

A bitter smile crossed his face, "I suppose you conveniently saved yourself for that, didn't you?"

"Yes, Draco-," She ignored his sharp intake of breath at this, "I did it just so I could be with you." She snapped with very bit of sarcasm she could muster. With this, she broke free from his spell and rolled from the bed, backing up into the door. Her arm was outstretched and out of thin air, her wand began to materialize.

She smirked at the widened grey eyes before she went forward and pressed her wand against his jugular. "Why are you here?"

He backed up slowly, eyes focused upon her wand. "I thought I answered that."

She closed her eyes, another wave of pain shooting through her head. Before she knew it, he had honed in on his Seeker reflexes and thrown her on her back once more, this time, pressing his weight against her.

She did not- _would not_ struggle and turned her head away, refusing to look at him.

He gripped her jaw with his thin fingers, forcing her to look at him and she glared, mustering up all the anger she could purvey in one look.

"Hermione?" A faint voice from downstairs called hesitantly.

Both heads swiveled to the door immediately and she threw him from atop her. He fell to the floor with a muttered curse while pounding footsteps running up the stairs could be heard. The doorway was quickly filled with a lanky frame as Ron entered the room with his wand held out.

"Hermione?" He asked with a confused look, "What was that noise? And why didn't you answer when I called? I thought something had happened!"

"I didn't hear." She responded somewhat quicker than she expected. She licked her lips and stood up before moving towards him and giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Come on, you hungry?"

The suspicion in his eyes quickly died out and immediately lit up at the prospect of food, "I'm ravenous!"

**xxxxx**

"So I came as fast as I could when I found out McGonagall assigned you to the Malfoys." He sniffed. "The nerve of that woman! I mean I know she's getting on in age but I didn't think she was so loony until I heard she assigned you to such a place."

As they entered the living room, she winced at the floo powder that had been tracked all over the pristine carpet and couch while a jolt of déjà vu shot through her. "I volunteered. We all volunteered."

"But-," His voice was uncomfortably high now, "It's the _Malfoys_! Death-Eaters-,"

At this she interjected, "-for-life…etcetera, etcetera. What else?"

"Monsters that they are…" He muttered, unhappy that his rant had been stopped.

She didn't know why she was so annoyed by this. Finally, she murmured quietly, "I can take care of myself."

While the tone was meant to placate him, it did something else which seemed quite odd to her. The corners of his lips lifted in something of a half-smile and a cynical light shone in his eyes. Then, in a tone she knew she didn't like at all, he responded, "We know you can take care of yourself. You needn't remind us so often."

"I only remind you because you and Harry seem to enjoy playing knight errant. I'm just saying it's wasted energy," It was the most practical thing after all.

His eyes narrowed and she was reminded all too clearly the symptoms of their famous blow-outs, "Why are you defending that nasty pureblooded ferret anyways? You're supposed to be on our side!"

"I thought this war was supposed to show how dangerous it was to choose sides!" She muttered bitterly as she stalked into the kitchen.

"Not if you choose the _right _side!"

"There are no wrong or right sides, Ron! Just shades of grey and a vague sense of what we think is right!"

His lips were close to snarling as his complexion quickly changed colors, "Vague? That's what you call traipsing all over England and saving the bloody world!? They were murdering Muggle-born for Merlin's sake!"

She sighed, knowing that this conversation was treading on dangerous ground and instead, opted for a gentler tone, "The war is over, we can't keep fighting. You need to know how dangerous prejudice can be, how crazy it makes people." She wasn't just talking about the Death Eaters either.

"Yes well, it's not as though they're quick on the uptake are they?" He rolled his eyes, seemingly oblivious at whom her comment was truly directed at.

Before she could help it, words already poured forth from her mouth, "You know if it weren't for them, Harry would have never been able to fake his own death to Voldemort. He might've actually been killed!"

"If it weren't for them, _you_ wouldn't have been tortured for a full hour!" He shot right back.

She had to give him that but her mulish qualities persevered as she pressed upon the matter, "It's not as though he was willing to give us up, you know as well as I how reluctant he was in answering Bellatrix." _Yes, why was she defending him _

"Blah blah blah," He waved his hand carelessly as they made their way into the dining room. "If I didn't know better, I'd think he was your newest S.P.E.W. project or something."

Lips pursed, eyes narrowed, and nostrils flaring, she quickly summoned two sets of dinnerware before turning around and stepping up right in his face, "Don't mock me."

He threw his hands up and turned on his heel, throwing himself ungracefully into a seat, "Honestly, everybody knows what they did and _why_ they did it! There's no honor in anything they did because they were just trying to protect their own arses."

"It was for _their family_. At least_ that_ we can respect. Besides, what the bloody hell were we doing the entire time while hunting for Voldemort's bloody Horcruxes?"

His cheeks turned am even more brilliant color of red, "_Why are you defending them_!? We were trying to save all of the Wizarding World from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And _don' say_ that name!"

"It's just a name, Ronald!" She yelled, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Yeah well, last time I told you not to say it; you almost got us bloody captured!" He yelled right back. "Then when Harry did say it, we _did_ get captured."

She sighed, shaking her head, "He's dead Ron, and he can't hurt us anymore. It's just a _name_." She reiterated.

"Why can't you just listen to me?" He said softly, "You're my girlfriend."

"What?" Came the deathly whisper. "I'm your girlfriend!? That's how you solve everything, because I'm your _girlfriend_ and thus agree with everything you're saying?"

Ron hissed under his breath, his face a lovely combination of both purple and red, "That's not what I'm saying at all! It's just that, you're _my _girlfriend. Stop acting as though…you're his or something!"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and said in a quiet voice, "You're far too defensive to speak with right now. I can't deal with you."

It was a dismissal but the war had only made him even more stubborn. In her face, he snarled, "Can't _deal_ with me?" He repeated. It was hard not to wince at the venom in his voice. "Well you needn't worry anymore! Because why the bloody hell would I want a _harpy_ for a girlfriend?" His long legs carried him quickly into the living room where he plucked his strewn robe from the couch and snatched the half-empty bag of floo powder.

Despite her better judgment, she followed him into the living room with a bitter laugh, "Ha! You've obviously thought far_ too_ much about our relationship."

He threw an angry glare at her, "Yes, I have. I was too stupid to realize how much the war changed you, how much it has opened my eyes."

Her eyes fluttered at this but did nothing to take away the coldness in her gaze, "What is it pray tell?" Rhetorical, just the way she liked it.

He threw a handful of powder into the fireplace before turning to her and muttering, "I think you know," Then in a louder voice, he shouted to the green flames, "_The Burrow_!" Then, in a flash of green, her living room was silent again with the exception of her heavy breathing. Flopping down into the chair and not bothering to 'scourgify' the mess, she muttered quietly to herself, "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

Outside in the hall, a grey-eyed man listened in, silent as a ghost.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Antithesis

**Title: **Antithesis

**Rating:** K+

**Disclaimer: ** JK Rowling owns the characters, I own this particular storyline.

**Warning(s): ** Annoying!Ron, Post-DH, EWE (Epilogue? What epilogue?), Lime

**Author/Artist Note(s): ** Arrrrgh. This was supposed to be only 10 pages. It stands at 37 right now. I wish there could've been more room for some Dramione development but I was running out of time. Perhaps this is but a prelude to something more, hmm? I hope you enjoy this nonetheless, Soundthrustereo! Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

Thank you Nicole, for being the best of betas when I kept sending you a longer and longer version of this!

**CHAPTER 5**

The next several weeks passed by in a daze. Having been properly snubbed by Ginny and Mrs. Weasley during a small outing by herself in Diagon Alley, Hermione ignored the pain in her heart by burying herself in the reconstruction.

Clearing the rubble took longer than they expected; the rebuilding of the wall was tedious at best.

It helped that time seemed to fly at the Malfoy Mansion, especially after tensions calmed between the group members after the initial awkwardness of practically no conversation.

Strange enough, the four older members had fallen into some sort of camaraderie though it was still far from ever resembling anything of friendship.

She didn't mind it though. It was interesting finding out how Theodore was only a few points behind her in the overall standing of their classes followed by Blaise. Malfoy trailed the dark wizard by only a single point. After that, it was a long list of Ravenclaws that she could hardly remember.

Theodore was also in possession of one of the cleverest personalities she'd ever encountered, full of witty repartees and plain observations. Blaise was an enigma who possessed a very pleasant voice when once finally got him to open up. He was never lacking in his acerbic remarks, many of which only made some of the younger years shy away from him. His seemingly uncaring violet eyes only added to his cold, austere feel but sometimes, even for a miniscule amount, she imagined she caught a bit of something else in his eyes.

It was not her business to ask what they felt about the entire war- that was a taboo subject understood by all, even without a single mention of the topic.

And so, they settled into a sort of comfort with one another. There was Theo with his natural leadership and efficient division of tasks, Blaise with his novel suggestions in the architectural work, and as always, Luna pointing out from time to time the various, unseen creatures never before heard of by them, despite being very well-read. While the Ravenclaw had seemed strange to the Slytherins at first, at least Blaise and Theodore were polite and cultured enough not to comment. After a while, they took on Hermione's cue and amused her, if not for their own sake.

A rather nasty encounter with Ginny at Honeyduke's (_ "Buying chocolates for one of your Slytherin projects, I see." She sneered._) removed any regrets she had in her fight with Ron. While in the past she would have shut herself up for days and cried about it, it was not in herself to do so now.

The war _truly_ did change them.

They had encountered death and their hands were stained with the blood of their victims. While she did mourn the loss of a seven-year old friendship, she could not feel regret for the loss of a boy who would never quite mature.

One thing did bother her: Where was Harry in all of this?

_It couldn't be helped._ At least that's what she told herself.

On one of the days at the Malfoy Mansion, she was vaguely surprised by the arrival of an elf carrying a rather heavy tome decorated with gold lettering. Upon perusal of the contents, she realized it contained a fairly intricate layout of the Malfoy Mansion. Then, even surprising herself, she immediately flipped to the section containing the West Wing blueprints without even blinking an eye. She was curious but not disrespectful.

With some help from Luna, she was able to construct a three dimension model of the section that had been destroyed. Unfortunately nothing could really get started until all the rubble was removed and the floor remodeled.

Help came in a form that was quite a bit of surprise to them all. They were used to working without the supervision of the house's fair-haired owners. Therefore, when Malfoy appeared after lunch one day with a loud 'pop' and two girls not too far behind, a hush fell upon the group. Tracy Davis and Millicent Bulstrode stood, fairly unsure of themselves while Malfoy's grey eyes quickly passed over the scattered people, scrutiny in their depths.

She didn't notice, so involved in her discussion with Theodore about a collapsed column until his nudge brought her out of her intense musings.

She had figured he would leave once he made sure things were in order. That was how it always was before. This time, however, he simply shrugged off his pristine robes, unbuttoned the cuffs of his silk shirt, and set to work with the younger Ravenclaws (she had finally found out that their names were Abby and Faith).

She didn't know why her heart was beating so erratically.

At this instigation, work began once more. Blaise was repairing shattered pieces of stone back into large bricks while Luna went to work on the actual rebuilding of the wall. With Tracy's and Millicent's help and the vast improvement of their architectural transfiguration skills, the procedure went far quicker than before.

Hers had been enhanced exponentially.

They didn't notice or if they did, they didn't bother commenting. Nor did they question her frequent headaches. She was getting better at hiding them.

**xxxxx**

"Hermione!" Came the hesitant call of her name in Diagon Alley one hot afternoon. It was one of the rare days she had able to take a break from the reconstruction work at the Malfoy Mansion. In need of a new set of robes, Hermione had made her way to Diagon Alley. The weather was more than agreeable and the newly reopened businesses were booming with more customers than ever so after she made her purchases, she opted for a short walk around the area.

Turning her head around until it settled on a waving arm belonging to that of a seated brunette outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, she squinted in the glare of the sun trying to make out the face of the girl. The arm paused in mid-air, slowly withdrawing back to its owner before Hermione's eyebrows finally rose in recognition and she crossed the busy street.

"Tracy?" She asked, "I didn't recognize you! How are you doing?"

The girl blushed, a spoon filled with the delicious ice in one hand while the other arm folded on table as she leaned forward, "I'm fine. How goes the shopping?"

Hermione shifted her bags and chuckled uncertainly, "It's…going."

There was a period of silence where both girls fidgeted most uncomfortably before Tracy finally said in a rather quiet voice, "Um…would you like to join me?" Her free hand motioned to the empty chair across from her.

The curly-haired witch was surprised for a small moment at the invitation. Even if they had been working together for the past couple of weeks, they had never even spoken more than two words with each other! Then with a nonchalant shrug, she set down her bags and responded with a small smile, "I would love to…after I purchase some of what you're having. Strawberry is it?"

Tracey shook her head and returned the smile, this time more sure of herself, "Cherry."

"Alright, cherry it is." Her small smile transformed into a full-out grin.

After that, weekly trips to Florean were more common for the two of them, soon to be four.

**xxxxx**

He could not be surprised when he found her wand jabbing into his spine as he stood, half-entering the bedroom with his own wand on the offensive. _How did she know? He had made sure to remove every single ward, even the normally undetectable ones._

Then, as though answering his question, she pointed at a furiously blinking light at one corner of the room.

"Ah, Muggle technology. How…_quaint_."

She shrugged, stepping back with her wand still held out at him, "It helps."

He turned around slowly, his arms up in clemency as his grey eyes studied her shadowed face.

She could play all she wanted but he knew very well how edgy she felt at this moment.

A small meow caught her attention for a scant second before he leapt forward and snatched her wand, slamming her slender frame against the wall. For a few minutes, all you could hear was the ticking of a clock, harsh breathing, and the purring of a small, auburn kitten sniffing at his ankles. It turned up towards him, green eyes appraising him for a slight moment before it entwined itself between his legs.

Despite the rough handling she had just endured, she still managed to chuckle and murmur, "You should see your face."

He shot a furious glance at her before stepping back, both wands in his hand as she rubbed at her arms.

"Why are you here?"

"You _know_ why I'm here." He bit out viciously.

Hermione sighed and waved a flippant arm, seemingly uncaring that he was about to snap her neck in two, "I only brought it back with me to strategize."

"You spend half the day at my ancestral home with it and you still need to bring it back _here _to strategize?" He asked incredulously, his grey eyes piercing into her hooded brown ones.

The she lifted her head up and stepped up to him, "If you worry about me making copies of the book, it was wasted energy on your part. I'm not like that."

He was not in the mood for excuses, "Give it here or I snap both your wand and your neck into two."

She didn't seem frightened. He wasn't surprised. Between her, Pot-Head and the Weasel, she was always the least intimidated. It was only when their welfare was on the line did he see a hint of that panic so prevalent in her other two best friends.

He smirked. _Rather, a lack of best friends now._

Word traveled fast in the Wizarding World.

A thick tome was shoved into his arms and he felt a wave of relief shoot through his being. A preliminary spell was cast to make sure no copies had been made of this book; it had its own wards as a precaution, one of them recording anything and anybody that handled it.

The spell ended and he cast a doubtful look at her. Even though the results of the spell proved she had been telling the truth, he knew her abilities well enough to understand that if there was someone who could get around the powerful blood magic that bound this book to secrecy, it was her. Merlin, she had slipped it off the premise without any of them noticing until she was gone!

"I'm sorry." Her lips imparted the apology in a hesitant tone, bringing his musings to a grinding halt. "I didn't know taking it was a cause for alarm. I had honest intentions. Truly, I did. I know you think I snuck it off but I honestly thought it was given to me to be used at my discretion, not that I've abused the advantage to do so at all-," Her ability to babble at the most asinine times came back at this _most_ inopportune moment, "-I just took it without even thinking."

He stared at her with cold eyes, fingers tracing the gold lettering upon the book, taking one step towards her. The corners of his lips curved up into a smirk when she refused to step back and become unsettled at his close proximity. Then, drawing a finger under her chin, he tipped her head towards him.

"I…" He paused, his eyebrows furrowing as his voice caught in his throat.

She swallowed thickly and looked away, having had the sudden desire to cry, "You should leave."

At this, he pulled away, a disgusted look upon his face as he glared inscrutably at her.

Then all emotion dropped from his face and in a whisper filled with deathly promises, he spoke with his lips practically touching hers, "If I find my ancestral home's blueprints spread out on the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning, I'll make sure you pay."

Her lips curled in a displeased frown, she clenched her fists and yanked her head away. "You won't."

A sneer curved his thin pink lips, "Good."

After he left, she fell to the floor as a wave of pain and nausea hit her, images flooding her mind like so many times before.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Antithesis

**Title: **Antithesis

**Rating:** K+

**Disclaimer: ** JK Rowling owns the characters, I own this particular storyline.

**Warning(s): ** Annoying!Ron, Post-DH, EWE (Epilogue? What epilogue?), Lime

**Author/Artist Note(s): ** Arrrrgh. This was supposed to be only 10 pages. It stands at 37 right now. I wish there could've been more room for some Dramione development but I was running out of time. Perhaps this is but a prelude to something more, hmm? I hope you enjoy this nonetheless, Soundthrustereo! Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

Thank you Nicole, for being the best of betas when I kept sending you a longer and longer version of this!

**CHAPTER 6**

"I was thinking," Luna said, her spoon sticking out atop a mountain of melting chocolate ice cream as she stared off into the distance.

Hermione exchanged glances with Tracy while Millicent arched a thick eyebrow, her own ice apparently forgotten.

"Perhaps we should stop by the reconstruction at the Ministry and see how that's going." The Ravenclaw said with her characteristic breathiness.

The curly hair witch stilled, this time Millicent and Tracy were the only ones to exchange looks.

That was the site the Weasleys were working at.

Luna's pale blue eyes bore into Hermione until the witch in question looked up with a faint smile, "Perhaps we should."

Millicent nodded firmly, "Maybe we can even show those louts how to do real magic, hmm?"

Tracy hid a giggle behind her palm at this while Luna grinned in response. Hermione simply smiled and placed another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

**xxxxx**

The sound of four individual 'pops' were hard to miss despite the hustle and bustle of various witches and wizards furiously flicking their wands, disappearing beneath the many memos flying through the air. A tall red-headed boy turned his head, his wand in mid-air as a golden arm was on its way to being reattached to the statue before it dropped to the ground in a loud clatter. Loud footsteps echoed across the hall before the boy wrapped his arms around the curly-haired witch and buried his tired face into her neck. "Hermione,"

"George…" She whispered as his arms tightened around her.

Tracy, Millicent and Luna had quickly wandered away, leaving the two of them to their privacy while the tall boy took no notice of their presence and kept holding her as though he would never let go.

By that time her own arms had reached up and encircled him around the waist. She was shocked to find herself holding a rail-thin boy instead of a muscular build obtained from years of Quidditch training.

Finally pulling back, she was able to make out the bloodshot eyes, the purple crescents under those same blue eyes, and limp hair almost matching her now-deceased Potion's professor in stringiness. She gasped, fingers moving nimbly across his gaunt features as his blue eyes bore into her.

"Have you been eating? Bloody hell! You're so thin!"

He chuckled and in a tired voice, "Careful, you're sounding almost like my mother."

She gave a laugh at this before turning more serious eyes upon him, "Seriously, how are you?"

"How do you think I am?" He replied, the laughter gone from his voice.

"You're alive." She simply replied and then added in a whisper, "Just barely."

**xxxxx**

"I daresay my younger sister works very fast in voicing hers and Ron's displeasure of you to many of our acquaintances," he said to her as they strolled across the vast compound of the once majestic headquarters of Wizarding London.

Hermione shrugged, "She's always been an outspoken girl. I think six older brothers tend to do that to you." She offered a strained smile, entwining her arm with his.

He turned a grim look on her, "But it's no excuse for her petulance and jealousy. You can be sure I told her what I think about the entire situation."

She turned away and licked her lips. She didn't know how to voice her gratefulness for his support without breaking down in tears.

He jerked to a stop and she was forced to halt with him. Glancing up at him, his smiling face blurring from the sheen of tears collecting in her eyes, she offered her most brilliant grin.

George simply squeezed her hand before they resumed their slow pace.

**xxxxx  
**

After the rubble had finally been cleared, they were able to finish off the rework of the floor. True to the model, Millicent had transfigured the broken tiles back into their marble state while Tracey was the one attaching them to the cemented ground. Luna and Blaise were busy rebuilding the tall walls while Draco was supervising the repair work on whatever items could be salvaged.

She had just finished creating a window (they were fairly large and intricate in their design) on one of the finished wall sectors when her name was called.

"Granger."

She turned her attention the tall, dark-haired boy, coupled with the fair-haired boy standing next to him. Noticing their grim expressions, she dropped her wand arm and turned her full attention on them. "What's wrong?"

Theo motioned to the sector where Blaise and Luna stood with bricks floating all about, attaching themselves to the already built wall. With the help of Edward, Faith had just pulled a tattered painting twice her size from a pile of rubble just a scant ten feet away from them, while Millicent and Tracy were just getting started on that area of the ground. Blaise was carefully levitating an _enormous_ wall piece that looked like it weighed a couple tons with the help of another young Slytherin, Wulfric, so that they could attach the piece to the wall he and Luna had been working on.

"It's uneven," Draco supplied in his brusque tone.

She furrowed her eyebrows and stretched to look past the Slytherin pair. Theo quickly shuffled to the side, giving her a wider point of observation and sure enough, there was a slight indentation in the floor. "Yeah, it does seem uneven. Should it be?"

"Easy…" They heard Blaise's voice call out as they slowly anchored the large piece over the place of attachment.

"No," Draco answered as he surveyed the floor with interest, "I'm pretty sure it shouldn't. There must be something wrong with the foundation."

"There!" Luna chirped, grinning as she quickly sealed the pieces with a few flourishes of her wand.

"Well, is there anyway we can check it then?" Theo offered as he turned back to the curly-haired witch, "Maybe we should clear out that area-,"

A loud yelp caught their attention. Wands were quickly whipped out in succession as a precaution.

"Oh…" Tracy blinked wildly as a neat crack split the newly remodeled floor right between her legs. All around the reconstructed wall, a spider web of cracks appeared, the floor depressing even more. Having caught the severity of the situation, Luna and Blaise slowly crept away, Blaise tugging a pole-axed Wulfric behind him as the vibrations increased. It was as though the house was threatening to burp up a belly full of gas and they were not helping by standing on top of the offended organ.

The situation only multiplied in gravity when the wall started to break apart from the rumbling, chunks falling down upon the scrambling group.

"Get out of the way!" Draco yelled at the top of his lungs as he hurried over and yanked the hands of a struggling Tracy who had fallen to her knees. The ground beneath their feet cracked around them even more as the various members scrambled to find a stable area in which they could escape to.

A loud scream pealed out as the tall wall began to fall in its entirety towards the group. Instead of pieces breaking off and flying down, it had cracked at the base and was now threatening to crush every single scrambling person in its way.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Hermione's spell burst forth from her wand in a pulse of energy, the spell holding the section back just barely from toppling upon the people hurrying to move away.

Then Abby screamed, tripping over a jarred stone, tumbling to the floor with a loud smack. She rolled into a fetal position, her face paining as she clutched at an ankle.

_Oh, great._ Hermione groaned inwardly as she shot helpless eyes to the ones who had gotten away. Her own hands busy with keeping the wall from collapsing on them, she was grateful to see that Blaise, Theo, and Draco had already started towards the fallen Ravenclaw. Blaise and Draco were halted by the procession of helping Faith and Edward, into the safe zones.

Theo reached her first, "I've got you!" he shouted kneeling down next to her. He hooked one arm around her waist while throwing her other arm around his neck. Hoisting the young Ravenclaw up, they started to make their way slowly from the crux of the incident where the ground seemed to keep drop with every second. Nearly everyone had gotten away except for him and the tearful Ravenclaw who was clutching at him like a life preserver.

"Oh bloody hell!" He swore as their forms paused, him yanking viciously at his robe. It simply would not give, having caught on a jagged steel pole.

Then, a terrible sound reverberated through the air as the floor beneath the wall finally caved into a crumbling hole. Frightened for the pair, she focused all her concentration on pushing the wall back. A massive pulse of magic protruded from her arms and hit the wall, the magic energy pumping quickly throughout the long length. The wall was successively pushed back and weeks of work ruined as fragments of it shattered on the other side in a cacophony of noise while the rest fell into the quickly expanding hole.

Her brown eyes widened as Theo slipped again, the hole's growth close at their feet. A hoarse yell sounded out and before she knew it, she had shot both her wand and her arm out at the struggling pair.

She didn't even recognize that it was her own voice doing the screaming.

**xxxxx**

_Sheets rustled and a moan of pleasure sounded through the air. Somehow, she knew it was her own voice but any thoughts of propriety flew out the window at the increasing pressure building between her legs._

_He shoved into her again without any compunction whatsoever and she gasped, her eyes widening as she arched against him._

"_Harder." She whispered in the shell of his ear before taking the lobe and suckling on it._

_He grunted in response but complied, knocking her head into the headboard. "Oh god, Hermione."_

_She bit her lip, the metallic taste of flood filling her mouth as she grasped at him, breasts pressed against his sweat-slicked chest. He moved to pull her legs above his shoulders, moving furiously above her._

"_Hermione." He growled once more as his thrusts became more erratic._

_In her lust-filled mind, she moved to sit up, anything to bring her closer with him. Her torso lifted halfway up from the bed, her elbows supporting the entirety of the weight, she moaned at how the action only allowed him to bury himself even deeper into her._

_He made one final thrust, his mouth opened to scream his release before she silenced him with a brutal kiss.  
_

Her left hand shot out and grabbed the intruder by the neck before she sat up fumbling for her wand with her injured hand. Eyes blurry from sleep and with the room as dark as night, she could not tell at first who it was.

"You burnt your wand along with your hand to a crisp, remember?" He managed to say before she tightened her grip on his neck instinctively.

At the recognition of his voice, she immediately dropped her hand and covered her lips. "Malfoy? You need to stop making this a habit! I could have killed you!"

Even in the pitch darkness, she could feel him rolling his eyes as he rubbed gingerly at his tender neck, "Flair for the dramatics much?"

She closed her eyes and back on the bed, the headache slowly fading. Her throbbing hand was not as compassionate as it stung like it had been dipped in a basket of a thousand nettles. She clutched it to her chest in a protective fashion before peering at the faint masculine outline towering above her bed. "What are you doing in my bedroom?"

He did not answer, instead chose to sit down at the foot of her bed before lifting his legs up and watching her curiously.

"Well?" She demanded as she reached for the light with her undamaged hand and blinked rapidly at the harsh onslaught of brightness. When he eyes finally adjusted, she noticed he carried a slender box with him, the case just as elegant as the tailored robes that garbed him.

He saw her glance at the box and moved to place it in her lap. Hermione threw a suspicious glance at him, running a finger along the intricate designs carved into the fine wood.

"Open it." He finally said, clasping his hands together in his lap.

"What is it?" She asked curiously.

"A wand."

She arched an eyebrow at him, "Thank you for your generosity but I already planned to purchase one for myself at Ollivander's tomorrow morning." Handing the box back into his lap, she sighed tiredly and leaned back into the headboard, "Why are you really here?"

His answer, always quick and to the point, was murmured so low, she could hardly hear what was being said.

"I really couldn't tell you."


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Antithesis

**Title: **Antithesis

**Rating:** K+

**Disclaimer: ** JK Rowling owns the characters, I own this particular storyline.

**Warning(s): ** Annoying!Ron, Post-DH, EWE (Epilogue? What epilogue?), Lime

**Author/Artist Note(s): ** Arrrrgh. This was supposed to be only 10 pages. It stands at 37 right now. I wish there could've been more room for some Dramione development but I was running out of time. Perhaps this is but a prelude to something more, hmm? I hope you enjoy this nonetheless, Soundthrustereo! Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year!

Thank you Nicole, for being the best of betas when I kept sending you a longer and longer version of this!

**CHAPTER 7**

The first thing she saw when she first awoke was the picture of a giggling Lavendar Brown and a flushed Ronald Weasley staring at her from the front pages of the Daily Prophet. She took the folded newspaper from the outstretched hands and blearily read the headlines.

"_Granger Saves the Day? Upcoming Nuptials for War Hero" _

She quickly read through the article.

"_In the midst of this post-war tragedy, there is finally something to celebrate as one of our war heroes finally ties the knot with an old flame. Sources say that the relationship has been burgeoning for a while and only stalled during Ronald Weasley's brief stint with war heroine, Hermione Granger. Even though it was highly-speculated that Weasley and Granger would be announcing their own nuptials, one can now say for sure that it was simply not destined to be. Lavender Brown was positively aglow when we interviewed her. Miss Brown simply replied that 'something good to come out of all of this.'_

_But what of Hermione Granger?_

At this moment, the picture changed into that of a struggling Theo with a Ravenclaw thrown over his shoulders. Her horrified face came into view as she threw out her hand, her mouth opened in a terrified scream. A light suffused her arm before gathering into a bright ball encompassing her wand and jetting at the struggling pair in the midst of the shaking ground. Hermione winced as she turned away from the bright flare of the photo. Once it died down, the picture reverted back to the picture of Lavender and Ron. She sought out the last thing she had read in the article and continued.

_The war heroine's reputation precedes her as a mysterious spell, initiated by the _most-clever_ witch of this generation herself, saved the son of a Death Eater (also suspected to be one himself), Theodore Nott and fifth-year Ravenclaw, Abigail Foxburn. The Foxburn's would like to extend their most gratuitous thanks to Granger for saving their daughter but we at the Daily Prophet are more interested in learning…what in Merlin's name happened? _

_Suspicious that Miss Granger saved a suspected Death Eater and even more suspicious about where this occurred…that's right savvy readers. If you haven't noticed, the ruins of which they stand is the West Wing of Malfoy Mansion which was one of the many things destroyed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in his short reign. As you all know, Lucius Malfoy was briefly incarcerated due to his involvement with the Dark Lord in his campaign against muggle-born witches and wizards. A complication resulted in a mistrial and the wizard in question was set free. Will prosecutors make the same mistake in his upcoming trial?_

_Again, we ask, what of Hermione Granger? First Theodore Nott and now Lucius Malfoy, one has to wonder…has the war heroine, a muggle-born witch herself, become a Death-Eater-sympathizer? We at the Daily Prophet are itching to know the story behind her claimed cleverness and question if there is a greater motive involved. Post-war stress does many things to the greatest of (wo)men but we think this may be going a bit too far. It's no wonder her relationship with Ronald Weasley soured, pushing him into the arms of his school sweetheart. (Article continued on page 4 of the 'Daily Prophet Daily News' section)_

She folded the paper up before looking up and seeing a pair of brilliant green eyes narrowed suspiciously at her. Regardless of the elation she felt for finally setting eyes upon the elusive boy, she was deadly tired and her hand was throbbing most painfully so. She was far from the epitome of a morning bird at any rate and in her cranky state, could hardly keep her voice from sounded so snippy when she said, "It's six in the morning; do you think this could have waited?"

"No." Harry promptly replied, shoving the offending article under his arms before narrowing his eyes even more at her. "I've asked McGonagall to move you if she could but she won't do it unless she has your say so. She's already in her office at this time and I wanted to clear this up as soon as possible."

"Clear what up, Harry? I'm just doing my job like everyone else is. I wasn't the one who ran off and got myself shackled just because we fought!" She snapped at him, standing up to move away from the bed.

Walking out the door and down the stairs, Harry was close on her heels as he spouted off a rapid succession of comments she did not want to hear but he was determined to give.

"Hermione! Would you think about this for a second? You're helping out _Malfoy_! At the place you were _tortured_ no less! I'm sure if you had requested for something else, McGonagall would have understood! Now I'm giving you the chance to change your reconstruction site and you're refusing it? Has the Cruciatus Curse begun to _finally_ affect you?"

She jerked around, startling the tall boy and gave a hard poke at his chest, "Funny you should actually deign to notice what happens to _little, ol' Hermione Granger_. You guys seemed _so _comfortable with accepting that nothing could be wrong with her or that even if there was, she'd be able to handle it, _no problem_! Where the hell have you been!?"

"_Working_, just like you and everybody else! Anyways, we would have cared if you actually _said_ something about it!" He shot back, snatching her arm up in an iron-tight grasp.

"We've been friends for _seven years_, Harry! Does that _mean_ anything to you?" Yanking her arm away, she motioned to the deathly silent house with a wry grin on her face while the tears in her eyes threatened to fall, "I mean look around! Do you see anything missing?"

He clenched his jaw and looked away, shame taking the place of his anger. "Why haven't you gone and received them?"

Hermione pressed her lips together and turned around, "And tell them what? 'Oh sorry, mum, dad, I had to alter your life's memories of ever having a daughter so that you could be safe. You couldn't possibly understand the magnitude of what was going on in my world but now, I'm back! We can return to the way we were _if you can manage_.'" Her tone softened to that barely above a whisper, "The world doesn't work like that, Harry. I knew that when I changed their memories, even if for their own safety, it was a _one-time deal_."

He moved forward so suddenly that she had barely enough time to register his arms around her waist and his head resting on her shoulder. Hesitantly laying her arms around his, she rested her cheek upon his head and sighed.

"You shouldn't live alone by yourself. Come live with me and the Weasley's. Ron still loves you, I'm sure if you just talk to him…"

"That's just the thing," she said, finality in her voice, "I don't think Ron and I ever suited and living in such close range with them would just aggravate what's left of our relationship even more."

"Then the very least, don't go back to the Malfoys."

She patted his arms, "I have to work to do there. Plus, you know how I am."

He murmured into her shoulder, his grip tightening, "You don't need to prove a point to me, I know, Hermione. It took me a while but I finally understand. You don't need to do this. _Please_."

She jerked around in his arms and pulled him into a tight hug, tears now freely falling from her eyes as she gave him her silent answer.

_It had to end somehow._

**xxxxx**

"_**There is a woman at the beginning of all great things."**__ (Alphonse de Lamartine)_

When the bespectacled boy finally left, throwing her a small, but supportive smile, she threw him one of her own and a small wave in accompaniment. Once the loud 'pop' sounded through the air signifying his departure, her happy countenance quickly turned into that of annoyance as she directed a glare at the corner of the living room. Crossing her arms, she said in a quiet voice, "It's not polite to listen in on other people's conversation."

The air around the corner of the room shimmered a bit before his tall, slender body came into view. Leaning against the wall with one foot propped up behind him and arms crossed, he looked every bit the aristocrat that he was. Grey-eyes regarded her carefully as she made her away across the room into the dining room. He pushed himself from the wall and followed her into the kitchen where she quickly busied herself with a strange machine and a bag that seemed to be filled with a substance looking suspiciously like dirt.

Scrunching his nose up in distaste, he sat down on one of the stools and placed his own copy of the Daily Prophet in front of him. "I assume you've already seen this?"

She threw him a wary look from the corner of her eye before moving to pull out two cups from the cupboard while the strange machine began to make strange bubbling noises. Instead of answering, she asked, "Have you slept?"

"No." Came his ever-so-prompt reply.

"Then this will do the trick." She poured him a steaming up of the liquid from the strange machine, mixed in milk and sugar, tasting a bit before handing it off to him.

He precariously took it from her, sniffing at the delicious aroma before taking a small, miniscule sip. A delightful warmth spread through his body as his tired limbs seemed to slowly come to life. "What is this? Pepper-up potion?"

"Better." She replied succinctly, drinking from her own cup as she took the paper from him.

He took another sip while watching her reread the article before flipping to the next page, seemingly innocent in her perusal of the newspaper.

"You know that this will probably help Theodore's father with his case, right?" He finally mentioned setting his half-empty cup down on the saucer. _At least, that man would make it work for him. _

She shrugged nonchalantly, "It'll probably help Blaise's dad and yours due to the fact that you guys were there during the occurrence. Not to mention, you were doing your fair share of saving." She threw a glance at him, "How does it feel to be a hero?"

His lip curled in distaste, "I hardly think pulling a bunch of addle-minded kids from a pile of rubble is bound to be anywhere near heroic." Then a thoughtful look crossed his face as he shrugged nonchalantly, "Although, if that's the case, then I'm sure Pansy wish she helped us out now."

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at him, "Why's that? I was under the impression her father didn't get half as bad of a sentence as the others would since he didn't seem to have too much of a hand in Voldemort's affairs."

Draco winced inwardly at the mention of the ill-begotten name before picking up his cup and taking a large sip of the delicious beverage. It had cooled down considerably into just the right temperature and _like_ the pepper-up potion; it did wonders in fighting the exhaustion from his body but lacked the disgusting taste that usually accompanied it. "True…but the fine levied on her father was still exorbitant. It might seem as a bit of surprise to you but Pansy is a bit of a penny-pincher. She couldn't stop complaining about for days-,"

"Why are you here?" She cut in, her all-knowing brown eyes piercing him as she poured herself another cup of the brown beverage.

He was suddenly very uncomfortable and set down his cup. Pulling out his wand slowly, he flicked it towards the end of the island table. Two bundles of books appeared and though they showed signs of age, were still in decent condition.

She gave threw him a glance before reaching out for one of the books with her good hand and pulled it from the pile. The gold-plated cursive letters glittered mischievously back at her as she regarded the title:

_The Scrolls of Merlin__: Volume 1- The Pendragon Circle_

She gasped, fingers lightly tracing the letters, "Are these…?"

"Not my idea." He replied in a dead tone, "If it were up to me, I'd lock them up for the valuable information they contain. My parents, on the other hand-,"

"Your _parents_?" She asked incredulously as she reached to pull another book from the pile.

He shrugged as he jumped down from the stool, "A favor, if you will."

"What favor?" Her voice was uncomfortably high now and she took a moment to calm herself, "It's not that I'm not thankful but…this is grandiose especially for your parents. It's borderline excessive," She shook her head no, "It _is_ excessive."

"Stop complaining," He dryly remarked, topped off with a roll of his eyes.

"But still!"

A tight smile crossed his face, "It has to end somewhere right?"

Her secret words to Harry thrown back at her face by him of all persons, she blinked owlishly and lifted her head from her brief read-through of the books.

_She had forgotten he was skilled in the arts of Occlumency and Legilimency. _

He bowed with a slight wave of his arm before the sound of a loud 'pop' reverberated through the kitchen walls.

Picking up her coffee, her eyes closing in wonder as the aroma of the drink lifted with the steam. A brief, reassuring thought crossed her mind as she took a sip from her cup.

_Perhaps, it would be _more_ excessive to say that a new beginning was in order. _

**xxxxx**

**Would you prefer an art or fic gift?** fic gift, please.

**Describe your ideal gift in as few words as possible (plus rating): ** Post-DH, but ignoring the epilogue. Stupid-and-annoying!Ron.

**Dealbreakers (absolute no-no's): ** Not too much angst and an overly-sweet Draco.


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